


i still feel your touch // your hand on my skin

by spacebuck



Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Bucky, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Marvels Secret Agents 2k14, PWP, Post-CAT:WS, Secret Santa, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates AU, Standard Bucky Warnings, The usual smut, sgtbarncs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebuck/pseuds/spacebuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The handprint, the visible mark of a soulmate. Someone who is the other half of you, who would be yours, and you theirs, in every way possible. People aren’t always born with these marks, they only appear once both halves of the soul walk the earth. Some wait seconds, others months, others years. Bucky Barnes waited one year, three months, three weeks, and three days. Not that his mother was counting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i still feel your touch // your hand on my skin

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if she has an AO3 account, but this is my Marvel Secret Avengers 2014 gift for [sgtbarncs](http://steverogcr.co.vu/), sorry it's a bit late!
> 
> this was really fun to write, and I can totally see myself coming back and revisiting this universe at some point!
> 
> Unedited/Unbeta'd, I'll probably go back over this tomorrow and find so much wrong with it and edit it to bits but I wanted to get this posted for you hon.

The handprint, the visible mark of a soulmate. Someone who is the other half of you, who would be yours, and you theirs, in every way possible. People aren’t always born with these marks, they only appear once both halves of the soul walk the earth. Some wait seconds, others months, others years. Bucky Barnes waited one year, three months, three weeks, and three days. Not that his mother was counting.

     The spindly, frail looking handprint on his left wrist was the place eight-year-old Steve Rogers gripped when he tugged nine-year-old Bucky back. “I don’t need your help, I can handle this!” Bucky stumbled backwards, grasping onto the kid’s forearm to keep his balance as the scrawny blond lifted his fists, glaring down the much bigger kid in front of him. The kid, a known bully, looked at Bucky. Bucky looked at the blond. The blond glared at the bully. The bully seemed to decide he would fare better elsewhere, and turned tail.

     The blond turned to Bucky, wiping a smudge of dirt off his chin, stuck his hand out. “Steve Rogers.” Something _pinged_ in Bucky, a sense of knowing that he couldn’t put his finger on. He ignored it.

     Bucky shook the offered hand, feeling like a grownup. “James Barnes, but only my ma calls me that. Mos’ people call me Bucky.”

     Bucky didn’t notice the change until later, when his mother pointed at his arm in excitement. He glanced down, curiosity piqued, to see the black print edged in the brightest blue.

 

     **

     Bucky was furious. In ways he had never been before, Bucky was furious, and it was all directed at the smug little shit in front of him.

     “Again, Steve?! Again?” The crumpled rejection notice waved under the blond’s nose, tight in Bucky’s fist. “War will _kill_ you Steve!”

     “An’ what, you’re invincible?”

     “You think I volunteered? You think I stuck my hand up an’ asked them to take me away from you?” His voice cracked, and he snapped his mouth shut, glaring at the shorter man. He was such a stubborn, pigheaded, smug asshole, and Bucky absolutely loved him to bits. That’s why he couldn’t let Steve enlist.

     “I know Buck.” Steve was deflating, rubbing at the handprint on his arm, surrounded in a deep green. “I just…” He trailed off, broke away from Bucky’s gaze, looking dejected. Lost.

     “Steve.” The soft exhale had Steve looking back at him, and Bucky reached out, brushing a finger along the edge of his cheek. “I’d go to war a thousand times to keep you safe.”

     Arms wrapped around him, Steve’s face pressed against his chest, fingers digging into his back. “I love you Bucky,” murmured against his chest.

     “I love you too Stevie.”

 

     **

     “Steve?”

     “It’s not coming back Bucky why isn’t it coming back?” The frantic words had Bucky rushing into the tent, to pull away the hand scratching at a strong forearm. “Why isn’t it coming back?”

     Bucky stared down at the mark, his print on Steve’s arm, reached out to touch the faded fingers. It seemed so much smaller on Steve now, almost drowned out by the miles of golden skin, and the tips were faded, blurring away while the palm remained solid black.

     “It’s still there, Stevie” He tried to reassure the man.

     “You didn’t die Buck, why did it fade? Why won’t it come back?”

     “I don’t know Stevie, but it’s still there, and I’m still here. Look at me Steve.” His voice got hard, demanding, and that’s what snapped Steve’s gaze to his. His hands cupped Steve’s cheeks, his forehead pressed against Steve’s, their noses bushing together as the now bigger man breathed raggedly.

     “Do you still feel it? Does it still feel the same here?” Bucky reached out a hand, tapped a finger on Steve’s chest. Felt the other man nod shakily. “Then it’s not goin’ anywhere Stevie, and neither am I.”

 

     **

     Steve was frantic, trying to push past his friends, trying to make it to the door. He had to make it to the door. “He’s still alive he’s still alive we can get to him please _let me go_!” The hands on his arms didn’t budge, and neither did the woman blocking the door. They knew he wouldn’t hurt them, wouldn’t use his strength to get past them. Knew better than he did.

     Steve growled, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. They didn’t try to talk him down, didn’t try to persuade him not to leave, just blocked him from going to Bucky. Blocked him from his soulmate. He glared at Peggy. She glared right back. He jerked his arm again, felt Gabe lose his grip for a moment, went to take advantage, when he froze.

     There was a ripping feeling in his chest. Something so strong that he staggered, eyes widening in disbelief. There was only one thing that could be, only one thing that felt like it was robbing him of his breath, kicking him in the gut, and stabbing him in the heart, all at the same time. And then emptiness, unbearable, aching emptiness.

     “No! Nononono.” Steve shook his head frantically, as the people holding him stepped back, like they knew. Of course they knew. He clawed at the sleeve of his uniform, pulling until he gritted his teeth, snarling under his breath. Pulling until the Kevlar gave way. It fell out of his limp grip as he fell to his knees, all that new strength useless in the face of this. “ _No_.” It was a whisper as he traced the edge of the fading mark, the green washing out, the black turning grey as he watched.

     A soft hand brushed over his hair, and Steve looked up, into sad eyes. “He can’t be…” His voice broke, and he felt the wet track of tears on his cheek.

     “Oh, Steve…” Peggy pulled him in, his arms wrapping around her knees, head dropping to rest against her thigh. Steve cried, sobbing into her uniform, and it felt like his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. Probably because it was.

 

     **

     Steve hated it. He hated that thing on his shoulder, that mockery of everything he and Bucky had shared. The print was large, but strange grooves cut across the black, like scratches in paint. He didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t want to know. Every time he saw it in the mirror he felt it like a kick in the gut. His soulmate was Bucky, there was no other for him. But it seemed the Fates had something else in mind, and for that, he hated them too.

 

     **

     “Who the hell is Bucky?”

     The words stuck in his chest, and Steve couldn’t shake them off, couldn’t get past the heavy feeling in his gut, or the way his soul sung at the words. _Soulmate_ , it chimed. _Him_ , it rang.

     Later, the first chance he got, he was pulling off his jacket, yanking at the shirt until the sleeve ripped and he could see the mark on his shoulder. The left hand, marks reminiscent of metal plates scratching across the surface, its edges were stained red.

 

     **

     The Asset- no, _Bucky_ \- rubbed his fingers over his left wrist, metal cool to the touch. “I’m sorry.” The man in front of him, his Mission, his Steve, was pacing, tense like a tightly coiled spring. “I’m sorry,” He repeated, louder, and that had Steve turning to face him, pain crossing his features.

     “You don’t need to apologise Buck.”

     Even the words were tense, and it was like a slap in the face. Bucky rose, uncurling from his position in the corner of the room, and stepped forward once. Stopped, unsure of his welcome. Watched the pain flicker across Steve’s face again.

     “We’re soulmates?” The most important question. He knew the answer, wanted to hear it said.

     “Yeah, Buck. Always.”

     Steve was looking sad, as though he didn’t think Bucky remembered. But he did, and that was the problem. He remembered too much. He remembered being someone else, being the person Steve wanted him to be, being Steve’s soulmate in the truest sense of the word. He was still that person, but he wasn’t at the same time. He was Bucky, but he was also the Asset, the Weapon, and that was just as big a part of him as anything else.

     Bucky stepped forward again, still hesitant, but more sure. He didn’t think Steve would push him away.

     “Good.” He didn’t remember saying that, but it hung between them, and it confused Steve, he could tell.

     “I’m… I’m not him, not the man you remember, or want. Well, I’m still him. I have his memories, his reactions, his likes and dislikes, his…” _soulmate_. Bucky gritted his teeth, ran his fingers over his face in a gesture more habitual than anything. Another thing of the past Bucky. He continued, saying what was on his mind for the first time in … he couldn’t remember how long. “There’s more to this,” He gestured at himself, “Than just him, and we’d be fools to ignore that. But you’re a part of me too.”

     Bucky changed track, following his train of thought verbally, rubbing at the plate of his left wrist again. “I lost it in the fall, y’know. Only to the elbow though, HYDRA took the rest. Your mark was already gone. ” He bit his lip, for a moment, looking away from Steve, away from that pained expression. Steve knew that, had read his file, been briefed before he had shown up in this apartment that morning.

     “I fought them. I didn’t just sit there and let them do this, I fought them until they took that from me too. I fought them because they were trying to take me away from you.” Steve had to know that, he had to, he knew that, right? He had to know that Bucky hadn’t gi-

     The arms around him made him flinch, but Steve didn’t let go. Pulled him in tighter, even, until Bucky could barely breathe, and in that moment, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Safe. Bucky let himself lean into Steve, let himself tuck his head in the crook of Steve’s neck.

     “I know Buck, I know you did.”

     “Can we try again?”

     A noise of confusion next to his head.

     “Can we try this again, try being Steve and Bucky again, try being,” he hesitated, but he had already gotten this far. “Try being soulmates again.”

     Silence. Bucky felt something in the pit of his stomach, a twisting heavy feeling. Nervous, he was nervous.

     “Yeah Buck. Yeah we can.”

 

     **  
Months later, and he was comfortable in his own skin. Comfortable around Steve too, and slowly becoming accustomed to his friends. He was happy, but that didn’t stop the nightmares that taunted him, woke him shaking, sweating, a scream lodged in his throat.

     That night was the worst in a long time. Bucky dreamed of pain, of loss, of death and blood and _them_ , and it ripped him out of his sleep with a ragged cry.

     When Steve’s arms pulled him into a hug, he shuddered, head falling against his shoulder.

     “Just a dream Buck, just a dream.” Steve’s hand brushed through his hair, comforting, and he felt the tension slowly seep out of him.

     After a while, Steve pulled back to look at him. “Wanna talk about it?” Same question as always, though he knew the answer he’d get. Bucky shook his head, staring at Steve. The man flushed under the scrutiny, but didn’t move. Not until Bucky lifted a hand, placed it on his shoulder, over the mark. Steve’s hand echoed the move, until it rested over the mark on Bucky’s ribs.

     “I’m not very good at this, am I?” The words were out before he could stop them, and Steve frowned. “This soulmate thing.” He knew what it was supposed to be like, had watched Steve’s friends with their soulmates.

     “I’ve got you, Buck, that’s all that matters.” A soft smile from the man in front of him. Truth. He was telling the truth, and yet it didn’t reassure Bucky all that much. There was something missing, and he could feel it, but couldn’t pinpoint it. Something missing, that they had had before everything else, before HYDRA.

     He licked his lips, watched Steve’s eyes drop to his mouth and stay there. He did it again, deliberately, and watched Steve’s breath leave him on a faint huff. Before he realised what he was doing, Bucky was leaning forward, pressing his lips to Steve’s hesitantly. Steve kissed him back, but it was a reflex, and Bucky knew it.

     He pulled back, about to say something and yet not sure what to say, when Steve cut him off. “Bucky you don’t … we don’t have to do that.” His face was unreadable.

     “I know. But I … want to.” Bucky reached up, pressed his fingers to Steve’s lips. “I missed you.”

     He wasn’t sure who initiated it, but Steve’s mouth was on his and his teeth were digging into Steve’s lip and Steve’s hands were in his hair and _fuck_ this was what was missing.

     “Are you sure?” Soft words against his lips. Bucky looked up into hazy blue eyes, and smiled faintly.

     “You’re my soulmate, you’re the only thing I _am_ sure of.”

     Bucky pushed against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve went easily, falling to his back as Bucky shifted into his lap. Steve threaded his fingers through Bucky’s shaggy hair and pulled his mouth back to his. For a long while that was all they did, Steve kissing him like his life depended on it, Bucky pliant against him. But Bucky was getting restless, shifting against Steve with a murmur.

     “Steve,” He rocked his hips slightly, bringing a gasp from both of them. He did it again, and Steve’s hands caught at his hips. He dropped his hands to the hem of Steve’s shirt, sliding them underneath before he could think twice about it. Steve jumped, but dropped a hand to keep Bucky’s where they were when he froze, covering the metal through the shirt.

     “S’okay, just colder than I expected.”

     After a moment, he continued, sliding his hands up Steve’s stomach, and taking the shirt with them. He yanked the fabric up over Steve’s arms as the other man lifted himself up, then tugged it over his head and dropped it to the side. Bucky skated his lips along the edge of his throat, following the line of muscle down before brushing kisses over his pecs.

     “Bigger than I remember Stevie.”

     There was a faint laugh, and he glanced up, to see Steve staring down at him.

     “So are you Buck,” he grinned, before tugging at Bucky’s shirt. The soft cotton followed Steve’s as Bucky got tugged forward into a kiss. He felt fingers creep up his stomach, across his chest, over his shoulders. He couldn’t really feel it, but he knew there were fingers tracing the mass of scars on his left. It wasn’t the first time Steve had seen them, or even touched them, but it hadn’t mattered then. It mattered now.

     He pulled his mouth away and turned his head, but didn’t move, and let Steve do as he pleased. Bucky felt a touch, but it was different to the touch of the fingers still there, and he glanced across. What he saw had him frozen.

     Steve pressed his mouth to the edge of the prosthetic again, tongue flicking out and tracing the ridges on Bucky’s skin. “I’m proud of you, Buck.” The words murmured against his shoulder nearly had him in tears, and he dropped soft kisses along Steve’s jaw.

     “Sap.”

     “Jerk.”

     Steve’s other hand had been wandering, and it slipped under the waistband of Bucky’s boxers, distracting him as Steve palmed his ass. Bucky retaliated by sucking a bruise onto Steve’s throat, nice and high and visible.

     Steve rolled them, pinning Bucky with a grin. As Bucky gasped from the sudden change, Steve took advantage and gave him the dirtiest kiss Bucky had ever had, all tongue and teeth.

     Bucky broke the kiss to gasp for breath, as Steve worked his way down his throat, and across his chest. Even just the feel of Steve touching his skin was overwhelming, so when teeth grazed his nipple, Bucky had to bite back a whimper. Steve did it again, and again, until Bucky finally stopped holding back, groaning quietly.

     He rocked his hips upwards against Steve as the man kept making his way down, brushing his lips across Bucky’s stomach as he gasped.

     “Steve what…?”

     “Let me look after you?” There was something on his face when he looked up, as though he didn’t just want to do this, he _needed_ to do this. Bucky nodded shakily, got a faint smile in return as Steve tugged Bucky’s boxers lower on his hips. He pressed kisses along the edge of his hip, avoiding where Bucky wanted the touch the most.

     “Steve!”

     Steve laughed quietly at the demand, yanking Bucky’s boxers down the rest of the way and tossing them off the bed. “Hmm, definitely bigger than I remember.”

     Bucky couldn’t resist, sliding his hand down his own chest to wrap around his cock. His breathing stuttered, and he didn’t fight the urge to rock up into his hand. His left hand reached out for Steve, and the other man immediately took it, moving up until he could knock Bucky’s hand out of the way, and take over with his mouth.

     It wasn’t long before Bucky was writhing, panting, whining under Steve. He couldn’t think, all he knew was that he needed Steve, and he needed him _now_. His fingers left the sheets they were all but welded to and grabbed at Steve’s head, tangling in his hair and tugging upwards. It was a moment before Steve complied, languidly licking a stripe up the length of Bucky’s cock before he met Bucky’s gaze.

     “Stevie please I need-” His voice cracked, but Steve knew what he meant, going to the bathroom and coming back with a bottle and a box. He put them both on the bedside table as Bucky watched, eyebrows lifting in a silent question.

     “I didn’t expect, but I hoped.”

     Well fuck. Bucky didn’t know how to respond, so he tugged Steve forward, pressing his lips along the edge of Steve’s hip until he was pushed onto his back, Steve shedding his trackpants and climbing onto the bed, looking a lot more like a stalking lion than he probably realised.

     He was pulled into a vicious kiss. Heard the click of a bottle opening. Felt thick fingers pressing against his hole. Whimpered as they stroked and circled and one finally edged in. By the time Steve had three fingers deep in him, Bucky was gasping, eyes closed tight, one leg thrown over Steve’s shoulder and nudging against his back with every thrust of those fingers. Steve kept his hand exactly where it was, fingers curling and clawing and seeking Bucky’s prostate with single-minded urgency, and moved up, pinning Bucky’s leg to his chest and kissing him hard and fast.

     “Fuck me Steve,” Bucky all but screamed as those fingers found what they were looking for, dragging along his prostate and sending white skittering across his vision. “Fuck,” a groan, “Me,” a whine, “Now!” Steve went reaching for the box of condoms, Bucky slapped his hand away. Steve’s serum wouldn’t let him catch anything, Bucky was still undergoing regular health exams as part of his recovery.

     “Are you sure?” That question again, this time low, almost pained with the effort of holding back.

     “Yes _fuck_ Steve!”

     Thank God Steve took him at his word, because his fingers were replaced by the head of his cock as he smeared lube over himself. He slowly pushed in, despite Bucky’s mewling cries and clawing fingers, and demands to hurry up. By the time he was fully seated, Bucky’s curses were turning the air blue.

     Steve started slowly, but quickly lost the iron grip on himself and started slamming in, hard and fast. Bucky gasped on each thrust, babbling incoherently in three languages without even realising he was speaking. A hand on his hips, lifting him slightly. Bucky groaned at the new angle, as Steve’s cock ground past his prostate with every thrust, squirming as Steve held him pinned to the bed.

     He didn’t last long, shuddering as soon as Steve touched his cock, clamping down on Steve as he came, howling Steve’s name. Steve groaned Bucky’s name shortly after, coming hard.

     It was a minute before either of them could speak, let alone move. Steve fell onto his back with a groan, and Bucky crawled onto his chest, chasing his lips. Their kiss was soft, sweet, Steve’s hand covering the mark on his ribs even as Bucky matched his hand with the one on Steve’s shoulder. 

     “I love you Steve.”

     “Love you too Buck."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments, questions, prompts etc. are always welcome, both here and at my [tumblr.](http://brickhousebuck.tumblr.com)


End file.
